It’s over.

***********@gmail.com

If you can read this I would enjoy staying in touch. (Email’s become my primary mode of touching.)

A little epilogue:

October 2004 to April 2007. It was a total blur and an eternity at the same time. Hmmm. I like that. That should go on my tombstone. And I want a gargoyle perched on it too. Maybe holding an hourglass with a sad, thoughtful expression on his face. Like he’s pondering the wisdom and profundity of my statement, while at the same time mourning my loss.

Ok. Sidetracked already. Let me start again. So I started this page one October afternoon on campus in a big cavernous library. I felt kind of lonely. It was year seven of my extended undergraduate. My girlfriend was a three hour drive away in Buffalo. The many light friendships I had made at school evaporated as everyone else graduated, moved on, and away. I was working full time night shifts as a security guard and not loving computer science.

But I ground it out. And while I was grinding, I found time to write here. And I loved it. I made time out of my insane schedule and connected with people I don’t want to let go of. Being able to communicate with these people in a meaningful and fun way was extremely addictive. I was (and still am) a pretty quiet and socially uneasy guy. Being able to express myself here at my pace and convenience felt fantastic. Henry Thoreau wrote that capturing something in language is exerting ownership in the best and most complete way possible. A poet who passes through a farmer’s land and writes of it’s beauty now is connected to that farm in a way more wonderful and complete than the farmer ever will be. I am taking that to heart today. I am grateful that I captured this period of my life. It made it so much sweeter that a few eyes and hearts hopped on to keep me company for some of the ride.

I graduated and moved to Boston with ****** (Merle). I landed a job as an In Vitro laboratory technician working with cells all day. It’s what I needed. A start in a career and a role among a fun and dynamic young staff. I loved them too much and it really stung when my favorites quit.

Heidi (gratefullImhere) committed suicide. She was emailing me and I was crummy at responding. When I found out what she did it really shook me and left a scar of maturity.

****** found and read all of my page. It ripped us apart and brought us together at the same time. Maybe there should be a gargoyle perched over our apartment door. This one would be holding an hourglass and a sad, thoughtful expression too.

Superficially, things have been going well lately. I got a promotion to lab supervisor. I’m now a graduate student at Harvard. At 27, I’m still kind of young.

I still write. Now it’s in little tiny memo books that I keep in my pockets. I do it all the time and still love it.

But I miss you.

So I am tacking up this private, quiet goodbye. I hope you notice,

****** ***** ***** The Ancient Undergrad.